


Platinum

by Itneveroccurredtomeatall



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: AU, M/M, Secret Saito Gift Exchange, Secret Saito Gift Exchange 2020, Singer!Eames, songwriter!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itneveroccurredtomeatall/pseuds/Itneveroccurredtomeatall
Summary: Eames is a singer and Arthur's a songwriter. Together, they make a great team.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Eames/Robert Fischer
Comments: 13
Kudos: 22
Collections: Secret Saito 2020





	Platinum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suse/gifts).



> This is for suse's prompt "platinum" for Secret Saito 2020! I haven't written much Inception recently but I had fun writing this and I hope that you enjoy it!! Happy end of 2020 and happy Secret Saito! :)

“Eames, your new album is… stunning,” the reporter said as she brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. 

“Thanks,” Eames said as he flashed a winning grin at her and then the camera. “I thought so, too.” 

She laughed. “Every song was amazing, but there’s one in particular that’s making the internet lose its collective mind.” 

“Oh?” Eames raised an eyebrow. “Which one?” 

“ _You_ ,” she answered. “The third single off the album.” 

Eames smiled. “Yeah, it’s a good one,” he said. 

“Where’d the inspiration come from?” 

“Well... I’m not sure,” Eames said. “You’d have to ask my wonderful collaborator Arthur, Arthur Darling. He wrote _You_ and co-wrote a few others on the album with me.” 

“Arthur Darling,” she repeated. 

Eames nodded. “He’s the genius behind some of the best lines on the album and… he’s a mate. We get on well.”

Of course, the first time Eames had met Arthur, they hadn’t gotten on well. At all. 

They’d been introduced at Dom and Mal’s annual New Year’s Eve party by an over-eager Ariadne. She’d been talking Arthur up to Eames and not-so-subtly hinting that they should collaborate for weeks and she’d quickly hunted Arthur out in the crowd and dragged Eames over to the younger songwriter. 

After their rather awkward initial introduction, Eames had spent most of the night avoiding Arthur but the man seemed to have some sort of third sense for spotting Eames in the crowd since almost every time Eames glanced in Arthur’s direction, the man’s intense gaze was directed at himself. There was something about him that rattled Eames but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

_“I don’t know how he can be like- like_ that _,” Eames had gestured at the strangely stiff, sober, and suited man who looked incredibly out of place at a party where most people were already well on their way to a massive hangover the following day, “and put out something like_ Every Day _.”_

_Ariadne had shrugged. “He’s an artist, Eames.”_

_Eames had frowned. “He looks like an accountant.”_

_Ariadne had laughed at that. “Well, luckily for you, he’s not.”_

_“Hmm….”_

And, while their relationship had certainly improved since that first night, there’s still a certain level of tension underlying each of their interactions. It’s not… bad. It’s just always there. 

Eames didn’t mind working with the man. If he was honest with himself, he enjoyed spending time with Arthur despite their bickering and Arthur’s general… attitude. Arthur was very much _not_ the sort of person Eames generally surrounded himself with. 

He was always so stiff, so inflexible, so demanding and Eames loved spending time with people who were more like himself. By all accounts, he should hate spending time with Arthur but the other man was also a musical genius and, beneath his rather prickly exterior, unusually kind. 

Eames hadn’t noticed it at first and he suspected that was by design. On the surface, Arthur had seemed cold and he’d been especially cold towards Eames. But, as Eames had spent more and more time around the man, he’d started to notice all the little things about Arthur. Like the way he picked up the pace the tiniest bit as they approached a door so he could open and hold the door for Eames. Or the way he always placed rather generous tips in the tip jar at the front of the coffee shop. Or the way Arthur had patiently listened to the older woman on the train who had cornered him and even took the time to look at and compliment the photos of her new grandson. They weren’t grand gestures of kindness and Arthur didn’t really get anything out of them. They were ordinary acts that would improve someone else’s day just a little.

To be honest, Eames knew by the third week of knowing Arthur that he had started to fall for him. Not _seriously_ by any means. The man was still distant and aloof and Eames had Robert but, over time, that fondness for Arthur continued to grow. 

* * *

On a Tuesday morning a few months later, Eames woke up to the sound of his mobile ringing. 

He blindly reached out a hand toward the nightstand and managed to grab his phone without knocking it to the floor. 

“Hello?” He said gruffly once he’d accepted the call.

“Eames.” It was Ariadne. “You’ve gone platinum.” 

“What?” Eames sat up and groggily rubbed his eyes. 

“Not the whole album,” she clarified, “but _You_ just went platinum.” 

Eames sits in a stunned silence for a moment. 

“Eames? Are you still there? Did you hear what I said?” Ariadne asked. 

“I-uh- yeah, yes. I’m still here and I heard what you said,” Eames confirmed. “Just… processing.” 

Yeah, it took me a moment, too,” Ariadne said sympathetically. “Do you want to call Arthur or shall I?” 

“I’ll call him,” Eames blurted out immediately which prompted Ariadne to burst out laughing. 

“I’ll let you get to that, then,” she said. “And, Eames?”

“Hmm?”

“Congratulations. You really deserved this and I know we don’t say this sort of thing but I’m proud of you and grateful to have had the opportunity to work with you,” she said quickly. “And now I’m just going to hang up before I embarrass myself any further.” 

She laughed and ended the call before Eames had a chance to reply. 

Eames sighed as he returned his mobile to the nightstand. 

For a few moments, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the word _platinum_ running through his mind over and over and over again.

Eventually, after he had worked up the nerve to call Arthur, he sat up and reached for the phone again.

Arthur picked up on the first ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Arthur, it’s Eames.” 

Arthur snorted. “I could tell,” he said drily. 

Right. Caller ID. 

“Ariadne just called,” Eames said. “ _You_ has gone platinum.” 

There was a moment of silence then, “Congratulations, Eames.”

“It was a joint effort,” Eames replied, “so let’s celebrate together. Meet me at **The Oyster** in half an hour?” 

For a terrible moment, he thought that he’d pushed too hard. What was he thinking inviting Arthur out for drinks like that? It wasn’t even - he glanced at his watch - eleven in the morning yet. What sort of respectable person asks their co-worker out for drinks this early in the day? But then-

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you there,” came Arthur’s reply.

The line went dead and Eames bit back a grin. 

* * *

He arrived at the upscale bar five minutes early only to walk in and find Arthur already seated at the bar, nursing a glass of… something. 

He crossed the room to join Arthur at the bar. 

“We did it,” he said and Arthur stiffened ever so slightly before turning to face Eames.

“We did,” he said. “Congratulations, Mr. Eames.” He held out his hand. 

Eames frowned but shook it. “It’s just Eames, remember?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Sure, ‘just Eames.’ Can I buy you a drink?” 

Eames grinned. “I was going to buy you one but looks like you’re already set so why not?”

Arthur bought Eames a drink and they ended up talking about everything and nothing in particular. 

It was wonderful.

Arthur’s face was flushed from the alcohol and he seemed more relaxed and happier than Eames had ever seen him. Finding out you’ve gone platinum will do that to someone, Eames imagined. He wondered if he looks as disheveled and happy as Arthur did. He hoped so. 

Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting Arthur mid-sentence. 

“I-” 

“You should get that,” Arthur said as he glances pointedly at Eames’ pocket.

Eames nodded. “Ta,” he said as he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, I hear congratulations are in order,” came Robert’s voice over the line. 

Eames swallowed as he shot a sidelong glance at Arthur whose expression had become unreadable. “Yeah.”

“Well, congrats, Eames,” Robert said. “You’ve worked so hard for this and I’m so sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you today.” 

“Thanks,” Eames replied, “and it’s no problem.” 

“Hmm… are you at a bar?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I could hear the noise.” Eames can practically hear the man grinning through the phone, if such a thing were possible. “Wish I could be there with you but… we’re in a quick recession before this afternoon’s acquisition meeting. If all goes well, I should be on a plane back to you tomorrow.” 

“Can’t wait,” Eames said. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to celebrating,” Robert said. “I’m so proud of you Eames. You really deserve this and I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

“Love you,” Eames echoed and then Robert hung up the phone. 

Eames turned back to Arthur. 

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked. 

Arthur nodded. “Please.” 

* * *

The next few months are a whirlwind of press conferences, talk show interviews and live performances, and photoshoots. 

When the Grammy nominations were announced, no one was particularly surprised that _You_ was nominated. Of course, Eames pretended to be shocked for the press (he may have even overdone it a little - there was a reason he was a singer and not an actor), but Ariadne had prepared him in advance. 

On the night of the award ceremony, when they announced that he had won the Grammy for Record of the Year, Robert grinned at him and practically pushed Eames out of his seat and up to the stage.

Eames swallowed as he stepped up to the podium. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice booming through the center. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Ever since I was a little boy, music has been everything to me. I never dreamed I would be here. I’d like to thank my parents for always encouraging me to pursue my passions. I wouldn’t be here without them. Robert, thank you for being you. You’ve always been there for me and I know that I can count on you for anything. You’re brilliant and I don’t tell you that enough. Ariadne, we did it! Because this really is all thanks to you. Your passion and your overwhelming confidence in me has always pushed me to do better. And, finally, Arthur, thank you. The songs you wrote are incredible. You’re incredible and I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity to work with you. Thank you, everyone.” 

The crowd burst out into applause and Eames gave a wave before returning to his seat. 

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur and Eames’ cheeks started to hurt from all the grinning he was doing as he watched everyone receive their awards. He smiled particularly widely when Arthur won Song of the Year. 

After everything was finished, Eames and Robert met up with Ariadne, Arthur, Mal, and Cobb to head to the afterparty. 

* * *

Arthur and Eames were very popular at the party. It seemed that everyone wanted to talk to them as they were ushered from room to room and mingled with people Eames used to dream of meeting. It was surreal. 

Ariadne and Robert accompanied them while Dom and Mal would stay for a few conversations, then drift off, and then return a little later with small plates of appetizers which they'd offer to Arthur, Eames, Ariadne, and Robert. 

Everything was going perfectly until Eames turned around in the middle of a conversation and noticed that Arthur was gone. 

“He left a minute ago," Ariadne informed him. "You should go talk to him."

Eames sighed and nodded. “Any idea where he went?”

“Down that hallway,” Robert said as he pointed to a hallway to the left of the room. 

“I’ll see you later,” Eames told them before he headed off in the direction Arthur had gone in. 

The hallway was mostly empty and he could just make out a retreating lone figure at the far end of it. 

“Arthur?” Eames called out. 

The man came to a halt and turned. “Eames,” Arthur replied. 

Eames continued walking and closed the distance between them. 

“Are you alright? I turned and you were gone.” 

Arthur nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just needed some air. Not that it’s any of your business, Eames.” 

“Oh… Care for some company?” 

Arthur considered Eames’ offer for a moment. “Alright,” he finally said before turning back around and continuing toward the door. 

Eames fell into step behind him and, after passing through the door at the end of the hallway, they found themselves on a small balcony which offered a lovely view of all the bright lights of the city below. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Eames said and Arthur nodded. His back was to Eames as he scanned the dark landscape.

“It is,” he said quietly. 

Eames took a deep breath. “Listen, Arthur. I’m not sure what I did back there, exactly, but I’m sorry for… whatever it was. I didn’t mean to-” 

“I wrote _You_ for you,” Arthur said suddenly, interrupting Eames. 

“Well, I know that,” Eames said impatiently. “Ariadne and I hired you to-” 

Arthur turned to face Eames.

“No, I wrote it _for_ you,” he repeated and suddenly Eames got it. The way that every time he’d looked over at Arthur during Dom and Mal’s party, he’d caught Arthur staring straight back at him. That one line in the bridge of _You_. Arthur’s sudden coldness at the bar when Robert had called. It all made sense now and Eames couldn’t believe he’d been so oblivious. 

“Oh,” he said dumbly. 

Arthur snorted. “Oh?” He turned away, back to the city. 

“Arthur, wait!” 

Arthur whirled around to face Eames. “Go back to Fischer,” he hissed, “and let me get on with my life.” 

Eames shook his head and swallowed. “I can’t do that, Arthur.” 

“And, pray tell, why not?” Arthur replied scathingly. 

Eames suppressed the urge to flinch at the coldness in Arthur’s voice. “I realized that I don’t love him,” he said honestly. 

Arthur seemed to soften. “You don’t?” He said quietly. 

“I don’t,” Eames confirmed, “because… I love you. Arthur, I broke up with Robert last week.”

“But in your speech-” 

“He’s still a good friend,” Eames said quickly. “He’ll always be! We’ve been through a lot together and he’s great. He really is. But he’s not you. Arthur, I….”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” 

And, as the party raged on inside and the lights of the city twinkled below, Eames leaned forward to press his lips against Arthur’s.


End file.
